


Step on the Stage

by Rubyleaf



Category: Servamp (Anime & Manga)
Genre: College Student Kuro, Gen, Idol AU, M/M, Mahiru is his simple sunshine idol partner, So obviously, This is my contribution for the second Servamp zine, ft. backstage shenanigans, hard work, story is told in a series of flashbacks, themed "idols"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 16:36:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14476782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubyleaf/pseuds/Rubyleaf
Summary: Just a few months ago, Kuro had no plans and no purpose in life. Now he's got the best idol partner he could wish for, and they're less than an hour away from introducing themselves to the world.





	Step on the Stage

“This is frilly.”

“Hold still.”

“And tight.”

“Hold still!”

Mahiru sighs, adjusting the cravat on Kuro’s costume for what feels like the twenty-fifth time in two minutes. Usually this should be the job of the costuming team, but Kuro isn’t comfortable with strangers getting all up in his face, not yet at least. Getting the makeup done by half a dozen different hands has been bad enough, he can put on his costume by himself, thank you very much. Well, most of it, anyway.

“I still can’t believe you can’t tie this thing by yourself,” Mahiru huffs, stepping away from Kuro and admiring his work. “If we want to make it you’ll need to learn how to do that! Who the heck wants an idol who can’t put on his own freaking costume?”

Kuro strikes a lazy pose. “It’s my selling point.”

“Well, it’s a lousy selling point! Nobody wants a guy who’s almost twenty and still needs help with stuff like this!”

“It’s cute. I’m a cute, soothing idol who’s relatable ‘cause he has no basic life skills.” Kuro side-eyes his partner, biting back a comment about the frilly costume he’s wearing, mostly because he’s wearing the same thing in blue and doesn’t feel like roasting himself just yet. “You just don’t appreciate that ‘cause you’re a stick in the mud, Mahiru.”

“Well, excuse me for having life skills!” Mahiru crosses his arms, huffs and starts adjusting Kuro’s cravat again. “If that makes me a stick in the mud, then I’m happy to be one!”

“Chill, Mommy.” Mahiru hits him for that, and Kuro glances off to the side, trying not to think about how close his partner is standing and how little he minds by now. “I still can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Mahiru pauses. “What do you mean?”

“Ah,” Kuro mutters, raking a hand through his hair and ignoring the dirty look Mahiru gives him for messing it up, “me, on a stage…”

\---

It all started about a year ago, with a perfectly common occurrence.

It started with a cloudy Wednesday evening, with sitting at home playing games and procrastinating on all responsibility, with opening the fridge and discovering he was all out of instant ramen. Kuro remembers it like it was yesterday. Standing in front of the fridge, calculating how much money he has still left and if he can afford dinner at all. Technically not. Maybe everyone’s right, he thinks, and he should really get a job. Not that he can find one, anyway. After all, who would want a guy who picked a college major at random to avoid disappointing his family even though he isn’t particularly good at or interested in anything?

But damn, he really is starving.

Fine, he thinks, grabbing his wallet and throwing on his jacket and shoes as he goes out, even though he knows for a fact he’ll regret this at the end of the month. Maybe they’ve got a discount on some ramen. Or maybe he’ll at least get his hands on a stupid bag of potato chips, that should keep him alive too.

The most likely outcome is that there’s nothing cheap enough at the store, and he’ll end up buying something he can’t afford again. But he tries not to think of that.

The convenience store is pretty empty when he walks in, as usual at this time of the day. The white-collar workers and housewives are already home, and he has the place pretty much to himself. At least something. Now he just has to go past all the delicious-looking food without impulse-buying anything, get to the junk food section, and–

Something catches his attention. Something coming from the speakers, something familiar. He steps closer. This tune… didn’t he sing it just the other day?

Yes, he did. He knows this song.

Kuro doesn’t know why he does it. His body and mind just react on their own, without giving reason the time to stop them. His eyes flutter closed, and he starts singing along, quietly at first, then clearer and louder.

Something inside him comes loose. A part of him that’s usually hidden, buried beneath self-doubt and boredom and loneliness and disorientation, sprouts out from the depths of his soul and blooms, and just for the moment, everything is okay. This is what music does to him. This is the only thing keeping him sane at this point, the only thing he truly cares about, the one thing he feels good at. Between expectations and useless choices and the endless repetition of day after day after day, it’s the only thing that still has meaning in his life.

For three minutes he’s fine, perfectly fine, free from all the worries and stress that come with his life. Then the song ends, he opens his eyes, and suddenly he’s back in reality.

Except… he’s not alone anymore.

“That,” says the man who has come to stand in front of him, “was incredible.”

Kuro says nothing. His brain is still trying to comprehend what just happened and coming up with an error message.

“Sorry for surprising you like this,” the man continues, his voice and face friendly and cheery, fatherly somehow. “I simply heard your singing from the next aisle over and had to find out who it belonged to. You have an excellent voice, young man!” He grins, and Kuro finds himself patted on the shoulder like a son being praised by his dad. “Do you sing professionally? In a band, perhaps?”

“Uh…” Kuro still isn’t sure what exactly is happening, so all he can do is somehow play along. “No.”

“That’s a shame. Such a delightful voice shouldn’t go to waste, you know?” The man looks at him in curiosity. “Have you thought about making a career out of it, at least?”

Kuro fidgets. Snippets of conversation float back in his head. _You’ll never succeed with that. Do you know how low the odds are? And even if you do land a record deal, you’ll have to constantly struggle to pay your bills! Do you want to end up on the streets with no job and no money?_

“I… don’t think I can do it,” he mutters in the direction of the ground.

The man pauses for a bit, thinking.

“Well,” he says at last, “if it’s about that… I know someone who might be able to help you! How is it?” He smiles, and Kuro looks for any hints of a prank, but the expression is a hundred percent genuine. “Would you like to try?”

\---

Mahiru blinks, surprised, his dark eyes turning gentle as they rest on Kuro’s face. “What do you mean?” he asks. “You’re a good singer. Thinking simply, good singers always end up on a stage sometime.”

“I dunno.” Kuro tries to smooth out his hair, but somehow it only comes out messier than before. How are all these people better at handling his own hair than he is? “I’m not really the celebrity type… I guess.”

“Well, me neither.”

Kuro almost chokes on air. Gasping, he stares at Mahiru with wide eyes, incredulous and offended. His partner’s words sound like a blatant lie in his ears. How can this guy say something like that when he’s been a celebrity in Kuro’s life for so long?

“Don’t look at me like that!” Mahiru plants his hands on his hips and gives an annoyed huff, then he sighs, lowering his head and cracking a grin. “Come on, don’t you remember what you said to me when we met?”

\---

The strange man’s name, as it turns out, is Shirota Tooru, and he is not, as Kuro thought at first, some shady figure or weird talent scout. Instead he has a nephew working to become an idol, about Kuro’s age, as Tooru tells him, and desperately looking for a partner. Pairing him up is apparently hard, and that doesn’t exactly do much for Kuro’s confidence as Tooru and the guy’s manager take him to meet this strange kid for the first time.

Kuro doesn’t know what he expects, but a dance studio probably isn’t it. No one’s there when they enter, or so it seems for a moment. Then a door opens, and in comes a boy unlike anything Kuro imagined.

He’s not very tall. He’s not, as Kuro notes, particularly handsome either; he’s not the sparkly prince type, the cool handsome type, or even the childlike cutie type. He looks okay, but that’s pretty much it. Ordinary. Not in a bad way, but probably not in a way fit for an idol. _Homely_ might be a good way to put it.

For a very long moment neither of them says a word. Kuro looks at the boy. The boy looks at Kuro.

“So, uh…” the boy begins at last. “You’re my new partner?”

“Ah. Uh.” Kuro doesn’t know how to act. “Maybe.”

The boy steps closer, and Kuro frowns. Even up close there’s absolutely nothing remarkable about him, nothing in any way idol-like. His build is pretty light and athletic, probably fit for dancing, but that’s about it. And on second thought those dark brown eyes are pretty nice, but it’s not like he can get anywhere with those eyes alone.

Apparently Kuro has been staring a little too long, because the boy frowns back at him, visibly weirded out. “Is… there anything on my face?”

“Not really.” Kuro shrugs. “I just thought you’re pretty plain for an idol.”

The boy gapes at him for a second before flushing a luminous shade of pink, planting his hands on his hips and suddenly giving off the aura of an annoyed mother. “Wha– Hey!” he splutters, glaring up at Kuro with an indignant huff. “Is that something to say to your future idol partner on the first meeting?”

“It’s true though. You’re not sparkly at all.”

“Well, you aren’t either!” The boy gestures at Kuro’s face. “You’ve got dark eyebags, for crying out loud! And look at your skin! If you wanna become an idol, I feel sorry for the makeup artists!”

“At least makeup’s gonna help there. To change your face you’d need magic.”

“Excuse me for not living up to your expectations of an idol!” the boy says with another huff, and suddenly Kuro feels a little stupid for getting so hung up on that, fun to tease as this guy is. “How about we at least try to sing something together before judging each other?”

Kuro stops short. His eyes flit back to Tooru and the manager dude, who give an approving nod. “Uh…” Why is he suddenly feeling a little awkward? “Okay. Sure.”

“Alright then! First things first, we should probably introduce ourselves.” The boy offers a hand and smiles, a bright, warm, honest smile that lights up the entire room, and suddenly Kuro wonders how he ever thought this guy was too plain for an idol.

“My name is Shirota Mahiru. Nice to meet you!”

\---

“Boys, are you ready?”

The door opens, and in pokes a head Kuro doesn’t have to look at to identify anymore. He has finally remembered their manager’s name; it’s Rosen Crantz, and apparently the guy is kind of a big fish in the industry and manages a bunch of other units. Kuro doesn’t feel fully safe around him yet, but he doesn’t mind him anymore. They’ve spent enough time together these past months to make him more or less comfortable.

“We’re ready,” Mahiru answers before Kuro can say anything. Glancing up, he adds with an encouraging smile, “Right, Kuro?”

Kuro nods, and Crantz steps fully into the room to lean against the wall across from them.

“Okay,” he says, glancing down at his watch and adjusting his hair, a surefire sign that he, too, is a little nervous. “Less than an hour before your big debut on stage now. Are you prepared?”

Kuro and Mahiru glance at each other. They don’t need to exchange any words to know the other is every bit as nervous as they are.

“Yeah,” Mahiru says at last. “After all that hard work, thinking simply we have to be!”

“And _speaking of hard work_.” Crantz’ smile turns a little frosty, making them both tense and gulp. “You two promise me you won’t mix up the lyrics again?”

Mahiru splutters and blushes. Kuro rolls his eyes at the memory. “That was one time.”

“And you won’t get carried away in your banter again?”

“Hey, just because we bickered for ten minutes yesterday doesn’t mean we’ll do the same today! We know the schedule, right, Kuro?”

“Can’t deal.”

“And _most importantly_.” Crantz’ eyes rest heavily on Kuro, who squirms a little under his gaze. He has a vague idea of what’s coming. “You remember the choreography this time, do you?”

\---

It’s not his fault he’s never learned how to dance.

Mahiru has the steps down, but Kuro keeps on struggling. He can sing just fine, but as soon as moving around comes into the picture he stumbles over his own feet, mixes up the steps and movements and knocks into his partner or anything in his way. And he has tried everything. Nothing seems to help.

He’s holding Mahiru back, he knows that. They should be practicing the choreography together, preparing for the big event that’s going to introduce them to the public, but he simply cannot keep up. He doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong. Mahiru has to keep rehearsing all the dance steps on his own, standing on the stage alone and working with the team while imagining a partner where Kuro can’t be there. It feels wrong, even to Kuro. And honestly he can’t help being surprised no one is fed up with his clumsiness yet.

“This won’t do,” he overhears Crantz talking to the stage crew one day, his voice exhausted and frustrated. “We need to have them both up there, soon, or the show will be total chaos. Mahiru-kun can only do so much on his own.”

There’s a quiet pause, and then another voice replies, “Let’s not rush things. Kuro could be more ready than you think, maybe we should try putting him on the stage?”

“No.” Crantz sighs, and Kuro flinches where he stands unnoticed. “He’ll only confuse them both as he is. He isn’t ready yet.”

“Are you sure he can do this?”

Kuro freezes. An icy chill runs through his body, cold, frosty hands reaching for his heart and closing around it in a grip of dread.

“He’s a good singer, yes,” the voice continues, so casual, so frighteningly casual for the words it speaks out. “But that alone doesn’t make a good idol. Maybe he’d be more at home with a normal band–”

" _No!_ ”

Kuro lifts his head, searching for the origin of the third voice even though he already knows who it is, he knows and he can’t believe it. Mahiru. What is Mahiru doing here?

“Don’t say that!” Mahiru shouts, and from the look on his face Kuro can tell he is genuinely upset, why, he doesn’t know. “Kuro is the first idol partner I could really work with. I believe he can do this! Give him a chance!”

The adults gape at him, looking as surprised as Kuro feels. “But–”

“No buts. Don’t underestimate my partner!” Mahiru crosses his arms. “Tomorrow he’s joining me on the stage. He’ll manage!”

“Are… you sure? But if he makes a mistake and confuses y–”

“If he makes a mistake,” Mahiru replies with anger in his voice, “then thinking simply, I just have to back him up! Being a team means we support each other, right?”

Nobody dares to answer him. Mahiru turns away from the adults and marches towards the door, grabbing Kuro’s arm in passing and yanking him through the hallway. “Let’s go,” he says. “Today we’re working on the choreography together!”

And they do. For the entire rest of the evening and far into the night, they do nothing but rehearse the steps, mix and match and change up the choreography a dozen times over until they’re both comfortable. And Kuro doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s because they’re adjusting the steps, or maybe it’s Mahiru’s way of teaching him, but suddenly he doesn’t find dancing all that hard anymore.

Or maybe, he thinks, it’s just because he’s always been trying to dance alone. And half a choreography, performed by one person, just isn’t the same when it’s always been supposed to be done by the two of them.

\---

“We got it,” Kuro says, surprised at how self-assured he sounds. But it’s true. He can do it, and the moment he speaks it out he realizes he really does know it for sure. As long as he’s with Mahiru, he can do anything. And the other way around.

Crantz looks skeptical for a moment, then he smiles, and some of the nervousness disappears from his face. “I believe you,” he says. “You’ve been doing very well lately. Still, let’s talk through the show one last time, just to be safe. You memorized all the signals?”

The boys both nod. It’s all they’ve been rehearsing for the past two days, and by now they could probably recite them in their sleep. Just like the choreography itself. They discuss it one last time, and Kuro is surprised to find he can keep up with that discussion too. His body has memorized the steps for sure, but apparently his brain has, too.

At last Crantz leaves, and they’re left alone. Half an hour before the start of the show. They have nothing left to do now, nothing except wait until they’re called to the stage, and time seems to crawl to a stop.

Kuro sits down next to Mahiru, careful not to wrinkle his costume. He doesn’t know what to say. His mind wanders back to all the time they’ve spent together, from the day they first met all the way until now, all the singing and dancing and neverending rehearsals, the occasional songwriting and ensuing discussions with the team about lyrics and melody. It’s only been a few months, and yet they’ve gone from virtual strangers to a team, an unstoppable duo, two people who have grown to trust and like each other so much they might as well be family. They’ve become partners now. And they haven’t even had their official debut yet.

Mahiru seems to be thinking the same thing, because his eyes are distant when Kuro glances at him, a slight smile glowing gently on his face. He looks happy. Excited, but comfortable. Like Kuro himself feels right now.

Noticing his gaze, Mahiru turns, glancing at Kuro’s face with that warm, caring look he knows so well by now. “Nervous?”

“A bit,” Kuro says, and it’s the truth. “It’s… okay though.” _Because you’re with me._

“That’s good!” Mahiru smiles. “I’m glad. Remember how nervous you were when you first had to sing in front of people?”

Of course Kuro does, and he flushes, averting his gaze and fidgeting. “I wasn’t used to that,” he mumbles. “Can’t deal.”

“Well, and I couldn’t get the melodies right at first.” Mahiru laughs. “I’d always memorize them wrong, remember?”

Of course Kuro remembers. “Yeah. But you got better.”

“Because you helped me! I wouldn’t have managed on my own,” Mahiru says, and Kuro feels his ears heating up. “Thanks for that.”

“Anyone would’ve done that. Can’t deal.” Kuro still can’t bring himself to look at Mahiru, but time has started moving again, and he feels even calmer somehow. “Like how you helped me out with the dancing thing.”

“Hey, that was nothing!”

There’s a moment of silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward. If anything it feels comfortable. Companionable.

At last Mahiru stretches his legs, leans back and inches closer to Kuro, so close that he can feel him shaking a little. “We’ve come a long way, huh.”

“Yeah.” Kuro hesitates a little, then he places a hand on Mahiru’s shoulder, and the shaking subsides a little. “Guess so.”

“But you know,” Mahiru says as he turns to smile at him, “this is still just the beginning.”

And he’s right, Kuro knows.

This is only their debut as idols. The official beginning, even if for all these months it’s felt like a goal. They have only just reached the entrance, and they’re standing at the door to a world they have yet to explore, one they have only ever seen from hearsay and the gossip columns of magazines. But that isn’t scary. They’re a team. They have each other’s backs, just like a team should.

They’ve come so far. But they’re only getting started.

And he hopes, he really hopes that they’ll make it as far as they can, together. His life finally has a purpose. He has something to work towards, something to live for, something he actually loves. And… he isn’t alone anymore. He has people he loves now, people who aren’t constantly disappointed in him because he doesn’t live up to their expectations. People who trust him and believe in him, just like Mahiru does.

A light flashes green. The door opens, and Crantz’ voice rings to them from the outside, shouting something about needing to get to the stage because it’s almost time. But Kuro doesn’t get up at once. He turns to Mahiru, and Mahiru does the same.

“Ready?”

“Ready as I can be.”

Mahiru grins, Kuro cracks a small smile, and as they stand up they bump their fists together. “Let’s do this.”

Then they walk to the stage, side by side, ready to step out and show themselves to the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Curious about the zine? Find and download the whole thing [here](https://gumroad.com/l/byTxh)!


End file.
